


Sugar Boy, Honeybunch

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Series: Sugar Boy [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Daddy Kink, J2, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Size Kink, Sugar Daddy, Top Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 08:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: “Why don’t you let it cool first?” Jared’s already reaching for him, hands on his hips and sliding down to cup his ass. “Would hate for your tongue to get burnt.” Jensen grins, mouthing at Jared’s scruff-covered jaw.“Suppose you do have a vested interest in keeping my tongue injury free, don’t you?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *shrugs because really, what are we expecting from me at this point*

Jared’s had it with listening to Strickland. Nothing but complaints, complaints about complaints, and then even more complaints. The guy has the personality of a bucket of mop water, and the fact that he was up last is making this already overlong meeting go on even fucking longer. Jared just wants to get the damn book published, not worry about the fact that some edition from fifty years ago has been found to contain even more issues. It doesn’t matter, considering the guy and his family have been gone for the last twenty five. At this point, it’s just another dead text to there solely for lining the pockets of Kripke Press, and this company has more fucking money than it knows what to do with.

Not that Jared’s complaining about his salary. 

Just that Strickland really,  _ really  _ needs to shut the fuck up.

“Are you ready to adjourn,” Halemore says, and Jared can’t help but smirk as his boss. When Adam Halemore is ready to go, even Jared knows it’s gone on too long. The man’s a workaholic, but it’s out of love. Most of the time.

Strickland frowns, but he knows he’s been shut down. Good. “Yes, sir, that’s all.” He takes his seat, but no one moves until Adam gives the nod, and with a grateful sigh, Jared starts packing his briefcase up. It’s Friday, and if he gets things his way, he won’t have to worry about anything until he’s back at his desk on Monday. A whole weekend off, no parties to attend, no one to come after with a contract…

Jensen had better be ready.

He doesn’t have any particular plans for what that “ready” means, but after a day like today, Jared’s probably open to options. As he’s about to leave, Adam pulls him aside and alright, Jared can be on for just a couple more minutes.

“Jared - that meeting in Boston, we need you to take it. Rita had to cancel last minute, her husband’s having surgery. I know it’s sudden but…”

Jared fights to keep the cringe off of his face, because he’s pretty sure that meeting is  _ tomorrow.  _ “You’ll make sure the overtime is in by Monday?”

Adam grins, and Jared suddenly remembers why he likes him. “Airfare is already paid. Think your flight goes out at ten tomorrow, meeting at three. Even upgraded Rita’s seat to first class, since I figure your plans are being changed?”

He’s met Jensen a couple of times, and Adam’s in the lifestyle too. Henry’s a stud, all muscley coolness next to Adam’s silver fox good looks. “Nothing that can’t be delayed for a bit. Tell Henry I said hey.” Jared shakes his hand, and Adam sends him on his way. It shouldn’t be anything terribly difficult, especially since Rita’s probably already done all the groundwork. Securing the acquisition of Night Howl is going to be a big fucking deal for their romance department - and Jared will freely admit that of the work he’s read from them, it’s only going to be for the good. 

And getting his hands on the newest Rian Hart novels before anyone else does will make Jensen immeasurably happy. Considering how good the kink is - and how often Jensen likes bringing those scenes to life - Jared isn’t super pissed about having to go. Just means that getting his taste of his boy will be that much sweeter.

Josh is putting some papers on his desk when Jared walks back into his office, handing him his jacket before he’s even fully in the room. “Heard you’re going to Boston,” he says. “Does that mean I’m going to Boston too?”

“Not unless you just really want to give away your Cowboys tickets.” Jared shrugs into his coat, making sure that he’s got everything he needs for tomorrow before picking up the day’s ARCs off of his desk. Josh’s close-lipped answer tells him everything he needs to know. “I got this one, Josh, all I have to do is get a few signatures. Thanks anyway.”

“Go get ‘em boss.” Josh smiles, and now that it’s finally somewhere near six, Jared can leave. He’s already thinking about Jensen again, how pretty he’d looked snuggled up to his pillow when Jared had left that morning. He’d been worn out last night, mostly thanks to Jared - so no blowjob in the shower. Not a big deal, but Jared has every intention of making up for the missed chance as soon as he can.

But if Jensen is going to be coming with him and the whole obligatory celebratory “we hope to have a bright future together” party happens, Jared’s going to make sure Jensen looks his best. Dallas is fairly relaxed, and most of the time, Jared gets away with looking a little more casual at fundraisers and such but Boston? That’s old money, even if Night Howl is a little bit of a defiance of its New England background.

Ten minutes later, Jared’s parked his Mercedes in front of Taylor’s, already putting together in his head the suit he wants Jensen to wear. All black, onyx cufflinks, rich purple necktie. It’s Jensen’s favorite color, and it shouldn’t look so damn good on him - or anybody. But it does, and Jared’s already inordinately excited to see him in it. His pretty boy, charming and pressing flesh, more than likely with a ring around his cock because he can’t help but tease Jared, even when they’re supposed to be mixing pleasure with work.

Trisha greets him and kisses his cheek, talking about the new line they just got in. “I have a couple of colors that would look just  _ fabulous  _ on you Jay, you have to see ‘em, and on your frame? They’d pay you to wear it.” She walks Jared to the back, and Jared’s listening, he promises, but he’s already thinking about whatever sinfully skimpy underwear Jensen is sure to pair with his new suit.

He ignores the ache in his crotch, and once Trisha finally finishes - with the promise that he’ll try at least one - manages to tell her what he wants. “I need to make Jensen ‘pretending to be a Republican’ pretty. We’re going to Boston for work and… I trust you.”

It’s not quite the suit Jared had imagined, but that’s not a downside - it’s even better, and Jared has to admit, grey fishbone and dark lavender at his neck is going to be a knockout. Jensen already looks like a damn model, and this ensemble? Yeah, Jared’s going to be fighting to not take him in an empty hallway already.

“I think we need to talk about your standards of appearance - have I ever once dressed anyone with that in mind? The purple’s gonna give him dead away, hon.” Trisha takes his items and rings them up, and alright, she has a point - and it’s not exactly like gay romance is hotly read by GOP members, at least not publicly. Whatever. All Jared has to do is help him be more beautiful.

“I’ll see you next week, Trish.” He kisses her cheek again and he’s out the door, hanging the suit bag in the back window and sliding into the busy Friday night traffic, texting Jensen to let him know he’s on his way home. He doesn’t look for an answer back - Jensen might be out, or reading, or whatever else his heart desires. So long as he’s there at the end of the day, Jared doesn’t keep constant tabs on him. He knows the deal, and Jensen’s exceptional about sticking to the rules. 

Suit and books in hand (and his briefcase somewhere in the mix) Jared rides the elevator up to his condo, overlooking downtown Dallas in style. Unlocking the door, he’s greeted by the scent of warm sugar, Dallas’s number one rock station, and the sound of Jensen’s footsteps making a beeline for the door.

“Guess what I mastered?” Jensen swoops in, kissing Jared hungrily before leading him to the kitchen - dressed in one of Jared’s shirts and a 2xist jock, the sight of his smooth ass making Jared  _ slightly  _ less concerned with whatever it is Jensen’s been “mastering.” God, he’s gonna have to have him before they leave tomorrow, isn’t he?

There’s powdered sugar on the counter and a dirty rolling pin on the island, but Jensen’s grinning in triumph anyway. He bends down in front of the oven - he’s shaved his hole at some point today, because that smoothness  _ definitely  _ wasn’t there last night - and presents Jared with a pie, crisp and hot. 

“Gramma’s recipe, Jay. Think I finally got the hang of it.” He gets the can of whip cream from the refrigerator and shakes it, and okay, it smells fucking incredible. “Wanna try a piece?”

“Why don’t you let it cool first?” Jared’s already reaching for him, hands on his hips and sliding down to cup his ass. “Would hate for your tongue to get burnt.” Jensen grins, mouthing at Jared’s scruff-covered jaw.

“Suppose you do have a vested interest in keeping my tongue injury free, don’t you?” He finally leans up for the kiss that Jared’s been trying to give him, shoved back against the counter and moaning. Jared is let in quickly, sucking on Jensen’s tongue and tasting sugar, cherry juice, all those things that get sampled in the process of Jensen’s kitchen projects. He’d been a culinary student, once upon a time, and he’s continued his education unsupervised in Jared’s kitchen. He even offered to send him back to school, but Jensen had declined - he doesn’t suck at cooking, he’d just rather have it be…  _ unstructured. _

Jared feels his cock swell and press against his zipper, weighing the pros and cons of breaking the news about this weekend until after Jensen's blown him. He gets his hands inside Jensen's shirt -  _ his shirt, Jensen's just borrowing it -  _ and tugs at his nipples, pierced and hard, dragging a groan out of Jensen's mouth.

After, he decides.

Jensen moans, crowds closer, arches against Jared’s hips, hard and straining against the pouch of his jock. Jared ignores it for the moment, keeping his hands on Jensen’s tits, their kiss getting filthier and deeper. He kisses like he’s starving but Christ, how could he not want to have Jensen’s mouth like that? Jensen’s got his hands between them, untucking Jared’s shirt and going for his belt.

“Bed,” Jensen purrs, reaching in and squeezing Jared’s cock. “Feel like gramma’s spirit is watching me in here.” He leads Jared by the front of his pants to the bedroom, pushing Jared down on the bed and settling back in his lap.

“You’ve been watching too much  _ Ghosthunters  _ again.” Jared licks back into Jensen’s mouth, grinding his hips against his ass. “But if you say so…”

“I do say do, and don’t make fun of me.” Jensen swats him playfully and slides to the floor, pulling Jared’s knees so that he’s nearly hanging off the bed. Jared props an arm behind his head, not even out of his jacket and tie yet, running his fingers through Jensen’s shower-soft hair.

“Gramma’s the only one who ever made that pie, so she’s with us in spirit - but if she’s watching this, then well, Gram, I’m sorry.” Jensen kisses up Jared’s belly, nosing at the hair below his navel as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his slacks down, Saxx and all, eyes getting huge when Jared’s cock swings up and smacks his belly. Straight up when he’s standing, back against his stomach laying down - precome leaves a stain against his dark blue shirt, and Jensen makes strings with it between his fingers as he licks up the underside of his shaft.

_ Fuck. _

“How long have you been wet for me, sir?” Jensen hoods his eyes, licking at Jared’s frenulum, the perfect distillation of raw, sexual chaos. He pulls Jared’s foreskin back further, lapping at the pink that’s exposed, making his mushroom-shaped head fatten and flare even further. 

“Long enough that I thought about calling you into the office before my meeting.” Jared groans, Jensen’s little kitten licks at his slit driving him wild. “Christ, pretty boy, you’re being naughty today.”

Jensen grins, smug as he can be. “So I’m not allowed to enjoy the effect I have on you anymore? Well, then I guess I’ll just go back to-”

Jared growls, and Jensen’s smile gets even wider - but he does swallow the head of Jared’s cock and start milking his shaft.

Jensen’s the best head he’s ever gotten, and Jared’s had plenty - but Jensen has no fucking gag reflex, a jaw that doesn’t seem to have a limit to how far it stretches, and no time for leaving Jared anything less than well serviced. Fucking size queen to boot, and Jared’s got enough to keep him perfectly happy. The fact that Jensen still gets wide-eyed every time he sees Jared hard is testament enough, but still, Jared’s going to be a  _ little  _ smug about it, just to himself.

It’s not like he doesn’t have an endless supply of erections for Jensen, either. At thirty four, Jared’s probably getting more sex than he ever has in his life, and Jensen’s still enough in the thrall of youth that he can keep going, drawing Jared to his breaking point and shattering with him. 

Being a kept boy certainly doesn’t seem to be damaging to Jensen’s sex drive, anyway - or anything else, for that matter. He’s been living under Jared’s roof for a year now, and there’s not a day that’s gone by where Jared hasn’t gotten his daily fix of this sugar-sweet boy. Man. Christ, Jensen likes being called boy enough that Jared’s starting to lose the distinction.

The nine year gap in their age certainly doesn’t seem to bother Jensen any.

Jared takes off his tie and starts to unbutton his shirt, letting Jensen see more and more of his body. Jensen’s head stops bobbing, reaching up to get his fingers in Jared’s chest hair and kiss him, his mouth full of salty precome and musky sweat, crawling back up Jared’s body to push his shirt and jacket off his shoulders.

“You taste so fuckin’ good today, Jared.” Jensen settles back against his cock, ass teasing and sliding, and it would be so, so easy to grab the lube and wet Jensen’s pink, perfect cunt, but no, he wants his mouth, wants to bust up those pretty lips and lick his come out after.

Jared bites Jensen’s bottom lip and pinches his nipples, bringing out this sweet little moan that makes his balls tingle. “I don’t think you were done yet, sugar.” Jensen licks back into Jared’s mouth, all dirty intent and a promise of what he’s about to do to his cock. He slinks back down between Jared’s legs, kissing his thighs and inhaling at the join of his hip and crotch, his pubic hair kept untrimmed so that his boy can sniff all the musk he could ever possibly want.

        “You smell incredible, sir.” Jensen licks the root of his cock, making his way slowly back up to the head. “Always, Daddy, always.”

          Jared swears, pulls Jensen's mouth to swallow, and God, he does, right on down until his nose is touching his pubes again. Jensen groans as his jaw is finally forced wide, stretched to its limit around Jared's girth. He had measured one day, just for his own sake - and finding out that Jared is nearly nine inches had gotten Jensen on his cock for  _ hours  _ after. It’s not like he’s slowed down, and the way Jensen just lets his cock slide down his throat is still enough to leave Jared just a little awed.

The sound of Jensen’s wet, spit-slicked lips on his cock make Jared claw at the sheets and he has to see it, see the mess he’s making of his boy’s mouth. He reaches down, brings Jensen’s chin up until he’s making eye contact with him again. He hooks his thumb in the corner and presses on Jensen’s teeth with his middle and index finger. He opens right up, that tongue looking so sinful and shiny-wet, silver tongue piercing covered in spit. 

“Goddamn pretty mouth on you, sweet boy.” Jared pushes his fingers in and Jensen sucks them eagerly, hand still moving on Jared’s cock. “Shame I couldn’t keep you under my desk.” Jensen moans and Jared takes his fingers out, inhaling when his cock is swallowed, precome leaking down Jensen’s throat, thighs quivering with the effort to hold himself back. Jensen fucks with his stamina enough anyway - but today’s one of those times where he just wants to come and make Jensen do the same, bask in their bliss until they fall asleep.

Jensen gets his other hand between Jared’s legs and pulls at his balls, taking his sac in hand and pressing between them, tugging, rubbing, every little thing making Jared walk closer and closer to the edge. He’s trying not to look too hard at the obscene stretch of Jensen’s lips, the way his eyes are leaking tears because he’s stuffed too fucking full.

The little quirk of Jensen’s mouth, fucking  _ smiling  _ with his mouth full of dick - that’s what does it for him. He growls, tries to slam his hips up and nearly chokes Jensen in the process. Jensen ends up with a face full of come, Jared’s cock sliding out of his mouth with a slurp of spit and precome, thick, pearly white ropes nailing Jensen in the left eye and all over his lips, lapping at the slit like it’s the bread of life and he’s been starving for ten years. He doesn’t stop pumping until Jared’s finished, sweating, shaking from the goddamn intensity of it. 

He swears that Jensen has some sort of fucking magic to this, because no one’s ever made him come so completely from just a blowjob as him. Jensen wipes the come off of his face and licks his fingers, smug, satisfied and alright, it’s a good look on him but Jared can’t just leave his boy down there like that.

“My turn,” Jared bites, and he pulls Jensen up off the floor and kisses him, licking his own seed from Jensen’s bow-pink mouth, letting him sit in his lap and get his hole rubbed on Jared’s slicked cock. Jensen tries to grind down, only to be handled and placed facedown, complying with a peal of laughter when Jared pulls him up on his knees.

Fuck, that hole, perfect in its tight furl and dusky pinkness, hairless because Jensen can’t stand for it to be anything but that. He’s got the sort of ass that makes Jared throw all of his rules out the window - like condoms. Not once has Jared suited up for Jensen, too damn sweet and pretty to bother putting something like that between them. Jensen just looks so fucking good with come leaking out of him, purring like a kitten after Jared’s fucked him, cuddled up to his chest and grinning like he won the damn lottery.

“‘S not goin’ anywhere, Daddy, and I think that since I just re-arranged my tonsils on your cock, you owe me.” Jensen wiggles his ass, earning himself a sharp smack, gasping and moaning. Jared pushes his cheeks apart, licking over his hole, gratified when Jensen’s thighs go even wider. He’s begging for it, his own personal rent boy who can’t fucking get enough. Jared scrapes his chin and lips over him, right hand placed on Jensen’s lower back while his left fondles his bulge. He gets Jensen’s cock out, thick and substantial, uncut just like him, strokes him as he eats his boy out. Jensen begs, moans,  _ please, Daddy, more, sir, more -  _ it’s a tune Jared’s still trying to learn all the words to. He loves getting Jensen all worked up, cock-high and pleading, always, always wanting Jared to keep going.

“Louder,” Jared growls, and Jensen does, keening when Jared rubs his fingers over his hole, pushing in with his fingertips, opening him up even more for his tongue. Jensen’s leaking precome all over the sheets, cock heavy with blood. Jared smears it around, jerking him with his own slick, and yeah, there it is, the unbidden, whorish noise he’s been looking for. He steps his efforts up, licking and licking until Jensen’s shuddering, come spraying all over the bed, collapsing and still moaning as the aftershocks dissipate. Jared hauls him up, sits him back in this lap, milking the last few drops from his cock and bringing them up to Jensen’s mouth.

“Good boy,” Jared hums, kissing Jensen’s neck. “Always come so prettily for me, Jen.” Jensen turns his head for a kiss, face tacky with Jared’s still-drying spunk, a mess for him to clean up later. Jensen sighs, threading their fingers together over Jensen’s stomach, the shirt he’s borrowed hanging off of one shoulder now and probably as in need of a bath as the rest of him.

They stay like that for a while, folded up together, breathing in each other’s skin, trading kisses until Jensen finally starts to wriggle, and Jared lets him go, watching him skip to the bathroom. He gets up and follows, peeling off his socks and walking naked in behind his boy, cock still half-hard and drawing Jensen’s eye when he sees Jared in the mirror.

“I hope you’re not planning on getting dressed, Jay.” Jensen finishes pissing and goes to the sink, trading places with Jared, licking his lips with interest when Jared pulls his foreskin back. “Because I am not done with you yet.”

“Not even an apron so I can make dinner?” 

“Well… maybe an apron. And okay, pants too, because that whole not wanting parts to get burned thing? Two way street.” Jensen takes off his jock and drops it in the hamper around the corner, along with Jared’s shirt. Jared can’t help but stare at him tall, toned, his not quite abs covered in bruises and bites that Jared’s left over the last couple of weeks.

Jared laughs, shakes off the last few drops and pulls Jensen in for another kiss. “Yeah, God forbid I ruin the only reason you stick around.”

“You have… other qualities. Brains, money, looks - these are just my favorite nine, right here.” Jensen grips his shaft and fuck, Jared’s already starting to plump up again, pushed along because Jensen’s a fucking menace and Jared has a really, really hard time saying no.

Jared could lean back, let Jensen get whatever fill he needs - but they do have responsibilities that need tending to first. Like tomorrow. “Well, I’m about to remove one from the list. I have to work this weekend.”

The pout is immediate, and Jensen’s hand stops what it’s doing. “But you worked last weekend. And the one before that.” He rests his head against Jared’s shoulder, still holding his dick like it his damn security blanket. “And those were  _ voluntary. _ ”

“Yeah, this one wasn’t. Rita’s husband is in the hospital, and Adam asked me to step in for her. There’s a meeting in Boston.” Jared tilts Jensen’s head up and looks him in the eye. “I’m just the guy getting the signatures, so hopefully it won’t last long. Flight leaves at ten tomorrow, and you’re coming with me.”

Jensen’s still pouting, but he did perk up when Jared said he’d be joining him. “You promise this won’t take long?”

“Think there’s a reception afterwards, so you’ll be in on that too. No use in going stag.”

“You just don’t want me abusing the room service.” Jensen nips at Jared’s chin and scampers away - Jared gives chase, and they end up on the bed, Jensen laughing when he get pinned, pleased with exactly what he’s getting.

“Because you don’t know how to behave, and there’s every chance I might have to go back at some point. You can be the pretty arm candy for just one night. Besides, I brought you something in exchange.” Jared kisses him and lets him up, looking for his sweats. Jensen might be fine with parading around naked, but if Jared’s going to be at the stove, he’s protecting the boys as best he can.

“Go clean up the kitchen and I’ll show you. Looks like you set a cocaine bomb off in there.”

Jensen sticks his tongue out at him, but does as he’s told anyway. “Just wait til you taste the pie, and you’ll  _ think  _ there’s cocaine in it.”

“Just go.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Yes, it still unsettles him ever so pleasantly when Jensen uses that name outside of a sexual context. He wants to think he’s getting a pretty good handle on that role, but Jensen, damn him, makes him question that  _ way  _ too much. 

He takes the suit he bought Jensen into the study along with the books from the office, sitting them on his desk. He takes the suit out of the bag and hangs it on one of the bookshelves, filled with as many of Jensen’s books as his own. Yeah, Jensen likes the clothes, his Jaguar, all of that - but the books? Jensen cherishes them, reads them with an ardour that’s as close to lust as Jared’s ever seen. That Jared works in a place where they can literally be picked up hot off the press does funny things to Jensen, usually ones that end in him smiling a lot and giving Jared head that can only be described as grateful.

He walks back into the kitchen just as Jensen is drying off the mixing bowl, putting it in the cabinet before he’s pulled into a hug from behind. “Follow me,” Jared murmurs, taking him by the hand.

The suit makes Jensen’s eyes go huge, running his fingers over the sleeves - being naked makes it so much easier to picture what it will look like on him. “The fishbone was Trisha’s idea.”

“You told her to make me Republican sexy again, didn’t you?”

“Only because a sheer top and skinny jeans is not what this function needs.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, caressing the purple tie. “That’s what I’m wearing when we go clubbing, thank you.” Jensen straddles Jared’s knee and loops his arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek. “I love it, Jared, but I’m serious about the clubbing thing.”

“We’ll see.”

Jensen makes a non-committal little hum - which means he’s going to be working full time over the next two days to change Jared’s mind. “I know you brough books home, unless you’ve got something else in that bag.”

“Open it up. I think you’ve earned them.” 

Jensen barely sees the three other books in the pile - his eyes go right for  _ Sticky Sweet,  _ the first in Rian Hart’s new “Sugar” series. Jared lets him blink, open-mouthed, before leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

“I’ll go start dinner if you want to get into it.” 

Jensen nods, running his fingers over the cover like he’s holding some sort of holy relic. “I didn’t… Jay, thank you.” There is a glisten of tears in his eyes, and Jared kisses him fiercely, cradling Jensen’s face as he does.

“Anything for my boy.” He means it, too, and Jensen understands the scope of that - mostly. “No spoilers, because as soon as you’re done with it, I’m stealing it from you.”

“You’re getting another blowjob after dinner, you know that right?” Jensen squeezes him through his pants, lit up with an eagerness that gives Jared’s heart the flutters. 

“Enjoy your book.”

Just for extra safety, Jared ties the apron around himself anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally had a third chapter planned, but given the intensity of this one, I found it to be a tough act to follow. I promise that we shall have at some point Jared and Jensen going to the club - but I gotta save some of the good stuff for more stories. For now, enjoy this one, and send me ideas for future fics in this verse. I'm rather taken with it <3

It doesn’t take long for Jared decide that he doesn’t really like Boston all that much. Too big for its own sake, too crowded up, and the traffic is ludicrous - stoplights mean precious little. Even in the back of the Uber he’s taken from the hotel (where he’d left a napping, warm Jensen, the bastard) he’s praying for a swift end, listening to his driver curse and shout while also giving him a rundown on the best crabcakes in town, where to find them, and what time of day to get them. 

Dallas? It spreads. It has room to stretch, and it also has the Cowboys. The Patriots can fuck right off, so far as he’s concerned. Along with the rest of this town. And Jensen wants to experience its nightlife, yeah, fine - Jensen can be the one to brave the disregard for traffic signals and God knows what else. At this point, he’s not even concerned with getting to the Night Howl building - he just wants to live.

“Hey, we’re here.” His driver grins like he’s just gotten them through some sort of warzone, and fine, he’s not wrong. Jared thanks him and double checks that he has the necessary paperwork, straightening his tie one last time. He’s wearing what Jensen calls his “I’m coming to fuck you twice” suit, all black and sleek. The contract is the weapon and hell, Jared’s feeling like a pretty damn good executioner today.

Even if he has precious little to do other than be charming and get them to sign - it’s not a takeover, it’s a merger. Jared’s done takeovers before, this is about getting the hottest stable of romance authors in the nation corraled in Kripke’s house. They’ll have the full backing of their marketing team, their money - everything.

But it still gives him a rush knowing that he can report back to Rita that the job’s done. A lot of him still wishes that it was Rita here doing it, but it’s not like her fault Jack’s appendix ruptured. 

Walking into the lobby, he knows he’s turning heads, a stranger in a strange land. Rita’s flown up here five times, probably knows the people staring at him. Jared walks up to the reception desk,  _ Hi, I’m Jared Padalecki, from Kripke. I have a meeting at three. _

The girl behind the desk hadn’t bothered to stop and verify, and okay, yes, Jared will admit the cut of this jacket makes his shoulders look damned good but really, these sorts of things need to be double checked. It’s not his job to tell him that, but someone up the line must have known that he was coming.

“Jared, welcome - we’re sorry to hear that Rita couldn’t make it. Hope it’s not too much trouble, you coming up here like this.” Sylvia Knight, power embodied in a long curtain of red hair and a blue Chanel suit even more sharply tailored than Jared’s, shakes his hand as they talk to the elevators. The world of publishing legality is a strange world - but he and Sylvia go all the way back to law school, his sparring partner in enough ways to know that there aren’t any hidden clauses shoved into the document he’s been guarding with his life. 

Rita of all people would have picked up on those immediately anyway, but a second set of eyes never hurts. There’s probably been fifteen sets of eyes looking over this - Jared’s just the last in the line of experts. He’s okay with that. 

But he still has to make sure Sylvia and her team are going to be willing to exist as part of the legal team, along with the rest of her company. Night Howl won’t lose its imprint, but that doesn’t always mean everyone will be happy.

Sylvia’s got her team lined up, and there in the last seat sits Rian Hart, all pretty Georgia charm and strawberry blonde seductiveness, those lips giving Jensen a run for his money. The guy has no idea how many erections he’s caused Jared, how many nights he’s cost him losing sleep to turn the next page. He’s here for Kripke, cream of the crop, a show of good faith that he’s going to endorse most anyone Night Howl has to offer. Rian Hart’s word is powerful currency in the world of romance, and bringing him in was a smart move on Rita’s part.

It’s not the first time they’ve met, but Jared can’t help the dry-mouthed feeling he still gets every time they’re in the same room. Maybe he can get Jensen a conversation with him, even if it’s as likely to result in them figuring out that one of them is going to have to cede ego to the other, because Rian can be a little shit when he wants to be. 

Of course that brings Jensen to mind, his own mouthy brat who tried to feel him up on the plane because he slept in at home and they had to rush their shower. Jared bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, listening to Sylvia talk about their  _ bright future  _ and  _ the world’s greatest team in publishing. _

And all Jared has on his mind is Jensen’s goddamn bowlegs wrapped around his waist.

Signatures are given, contracts binded, hands shaken - it’s all over in less than thirty minutes and even though it could not have been smoother, the relief Jared feels is still deep. Now all he has to do is worry about keeping Jensen out of trouble for the rest of the weekend, and that’s a much harder task than merging a company ever will be.

Sylvia hangs back for a moment, still smiling. “You’re coming to the party later, right? There’s going to be plenty of flesh to press, and we’d hate for you to have to lose the chance to meet some more of the people you’ll be working with. Some of whom would definitely be interested in… getting to know the legal department in particular.

Jared laughs, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket. “Afraid that I’m not being kept warm at night?”

“If we’re going to be working together now, I just want to make sure you’re not… grumpy. I remember enough late nights that would have gone  _ much  _ more smoothly if you’d just dropped work for a moment to let someone…” She leaves the end vague, and for all her considerable capability, matchmaking is her second biggest passion. Like she’s a queen, directing and angling to put a power couple in every state.

“How do you know someone isn’t?”

“I don’t, I’m just letting you know the option is there.” She smiles, and Jared picks up his briefcase. “You’re too damn good to stay free forever, Jay.”

“I’ll see you at the party, Sylvia. Maybe even with someone.”

Jensen is going to be a fucking  _ knockout. _

Provided he keeps his tongue under  _ some  _ semblance of control, and Jared knows damn well that there’s not ever going to be enough signatures in the world to make that happen.

___

 

“If you want to take a picture Jay, it’ll last longer.” Jensen’s inspecting his reflection for the hundredth time since he put the suit on, his hair all artfully mussed and lips shiny with pink, stupidly attractive gloss - some of which is now on Jared’s mouth, too. “Because as soon as we’re back in our room, it’s coming off.”

“Will you just shut up and admit you look good in a suit?” They’re in the elevator up to the top floor ballroom, fifteen floors up from the suite that had been arranged for them. No driving, just the constant urge to not go to this damn party and keep Jensen begging until it’s time for them to fly back out on Monday afternoon. Jared kind of wishes that this reception was across town but no, this is the space that they chose. Temptation is a powerful bitch, and she’s embodied in the way those slacks are hugging Jensen’s peach-perfect ass right now. 

“No, you look good in a suit. This feels… constricting.” Jensen keeps turning, checking out his ass, the elevator thankfully not stopping on their way up. The last thing Jared needs is for someone to see Jensen perving on himself and him fighting to not get hard; his navy blue Tom Ford is a striking compliment to Jensen, and he knows it, too. It absolutely doesn’t help that he knows exactly what Jensen is wearing under those slacks, either, a goddamn lacey jock that he hadn’t seen him pack. 

Probably wearing it as much to test Jared’s willpower as to show off his own… gifts. Christ, Jared’s Saxx are working overtime already, and they haven’t even set foot in the room yet.

“Yeah,  _ you’re  _ constricted.”

Jensen gets an evil little gleam in his eye, and crowds back up to Jared’s chest. “I can tell. Your cock looks good in that suit, Daddy, and I’m going to unwrap him very, very slowly later.”

If Jared ends up with a little more gloss on his own mouth, then that’s between him and Jensen. He wants to be irritated that Jensen has him riled up already, but he can’t be - he likes showing his boy off. It’ll be one of the first times that he can confidently let the world see how Jensen’s got him wrapped around his little finger, and he’s okay with that.

It’s a give and take that stays mostly balance, but tonight, Jared is feeling exceptionally generous. Jensen can’t technically do anything more than run his mouth, and Jared already knows the solution to that particular problem.

The elevator doors open at their stop, and Jared leans over, Jensen’s hand hooking around his elbow. “Please  _ try  _ to behave?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Jared’s heard that enough times now to know that Jensen has zero intention of doing so, and whether or not it’s because he actively  _ wants  _ to be punished or he’s incapable of acting like he should, well… some days it’s hard to find the distinction. Jared supposes he’s just going to have to spend a lot more time figuring it out.

The place is a swirl of formal wear, all golden light and a band in the corner, playing the slow-n-easy version of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” - appropriate, considering it’s a party for romance authors. Jensen stops short, clutching a little more tightly to Jared’s elbow, not because he’s nervous - but to take it all in.

“You know that you’re obliged to at least one dance, right?” Jared gets them moving again and already, heads are turning their way. Sylvia looks ravishing, a sleeveless black Vera Wang making her look nearly Jared’s height as she approaches them, champagne glasses already in hand.

“Not until after I’ve had about three of those.” Jensen puts on his best “I’m pretty and I know it” smile once Sylvia is within conversational distance.

“We were starting to think you weren’t coming, Jared - and this is…” Her glamorous countenance clouds for a moment, either confused that he brought a guy as his date, or disappointed to find that Jared has already arranged his own company, he’s not sure.

“Jensen Ackles. And he’s mine, so stop looking at him like you’re ready to eat him.” He grins wider as he takes a glass of champagne and yep, Jared is already meting out punishment for later. He disguises a growl as clearing his throat, and Jensen straightens ever so slightly.

“Yeah, excuse him Sylvia - he keeps me company. He’s one of our advance readers, and thought maybe I’d give him a taste of the good side of the business tonight - provided he stops making snap judgments about my colleagues.”

He pretends to not hear Jensen mumble  _ I’d rather be tasting your dick right now  _ into his champagne flute.

Sylvia nods, and Jared swears he sees disapproval at the edges of her vision. Jared feels his jaw set, and she returns a smile to Jensen. “Enjoy the party, Jensen - I think you'll find it an experience you won't forget.” She walks away with a swish of dark elegance, and Jensen doesn't get the chance to say something snarky to her back before Jared’s leaning down the to speak low in his ear.

           “Consider this your first and only warning. Another little remark like that and your cock goes in the cage - I brought it in the  _ sincere  _ hope that I wouldn't have to use it. Secondly, there is not a single person in this room that I have slept with aside from you, so get a fucking grip. You want to be a brat? Fine, but remember that your punishment will not be enjoyable until I deem otherwise. Do you understand?”

           Jensen swallows, looking down at their feet, ears red as cherries. A soft, firm,  _ yes sir  _ is all Jared needs, and he straightens back up, tilting Jensen's chin up with the knuckle of his forefinger. 

          “You are better than that, and I want you to be. You're here because I want you to be, and I want people to see how fucking  _ lucky  _ I am to have you.” Jared hates bringing out The Voice on his, but Jensen is  _ not  _ going to make a fool of himself tonight. 

         “I'm sorry, Jared.” Jensen touches the side of his face, and honestly, Jared doesn't care that people keep glancing in their direction. He's going to be seen at a lot of these sorts of things, and he hopes to God it continues to be with Jensen. He wouldn't even  _ begin  _ to bring anyone else. 

         Jared sighs, and Jensen's features soften. “I know you are.” He leans down, brushing their lips together and hums when Jensen's lips part and his tongue licks into Jared's mouth, momentary, incendiary, just enough to set his blood on fire. They've claimed each other, and Jensen pulls back, for once, and it's enough of a signal to anyone who'd try -  _ don't mess with us. This is my Daddy, and that's my boy.  _

“Go make friends. Rian Hart is supposed to be here and-”

Jensen lights up and off he goes, mingling and charming. Jared catches Sylvia’s eyes again, and yeah, he’s definitely going to have to have a talk with her later. Sylvia might have leeway with him more than most in their field, but Jensen is still his partner. Boyfriend. 

They might need to have that discussion at some point too.

For the longest while, the party grows, gets louder, the band eventually picking up volume and energy. Jared downs two glasses of champagne, filled with more finger food than he’s ever seen in a lifetime - publishers know how to put out a damn good buffet, as writers always seem to be hungry. It’s funny, one ill-timed meteor strike and an entire crop of romance and erotica authors would be gone in an instant.

He’s reasonably sure that Jensen would personally tend to Rian’s well being, because they’ve been talking the whole evening. He can’t help but smile, watching them, Jensen, by the looks of it, actually having a conversation about books and things without being obnoxious. It’s certainly the most he’s ever seen Rian engage with another human being, which is odd, considering how  _ scorchingly  _ hot his work is. 

Right as Jared’s about to pull Jensen in for a dance - Sylvia’s been his near exclusive partner for the evening, and Jared’s remembered a lot the reasons why he enjoyed spending so much time with her when they were younger - and up walks Greg Schultz, the number two guy on Night Howl’s editorial staff, and an enormous, smug, pain in the ass. 

“Surprised you bothered to stick around, considering how clingy your little friend is there.” He’s nursing a tall glass of what’s sure to be bourbon, and likely not his first. Jared rolls his eyes, taking a bite of his cucumber salad sandwich so he doesn’t have to respond right away. He’s dodged him the whole evening, and here he is, right when Jared can’t slink into the crowd.

“Don’t you have a manuscript to hack to death?” Jared finishes his sandwich, deciding to skip a third glass of champagne. “Maybe a carcass to be feeding on?”

“There’s that sharp Texan wit I’ve been dying to experience all evening.” Smarmy, typical know-it-all Yankee, and he’s got an egg stain on his shirt to boot. “But seriously, Jared, who the hell is that guy?”

“It’s really none of your business, Greg.” Jared is trying to run, but Greg’s following him anyway. The pistol Jared keeps in his night stand, yeah, he wishes he had it right now. “And my wit isn’t what I’m here to show off tonight.”

“Surely it’s not that little hick who’s pretending he’s people. Nadine doesn’t exactly look like she’s having a good time.”

Nadine Waterman, Rian, and Jensen are all looking directly at Greg, who is surely the cause of their sour expressions. Jensen raises an eyebrow at Jared, and Jared gives him an  _ I know, he’s loathsome  _ sort of look.

“He’s not a hick, he’s the guy who’s going to be looking for mistakes that  _ you  _ miss.” Jared draws himself up to his full height, towering a full six inches over Greg’s rapidly balding head. “And it’s really people like you that make me wonder why the president isn’t putting his wall on the Mason-Dixon line. Seriously. Whatever keeps you several hundred miles away from me at all times.”

Greg laughs, oily and smug, takes a sip of his drink. “He knows how to read? What, does he perform for peanuts too?”

Jensen’s close enough to hear every word.

“Jared, who the fuck is this limp-dicked pig?” Jensen’s staring daggers at him, and for once, Jared isn’t going to try and reign his mouth in. In fact, he’s glad that Jensen isn’t  _ nearly  _ as polite in the face of fatuous assholes as Jared is more or less required to be.

“Ah, there he is. What are you, Jared’s bimbo of the week? Here to lick up the crumbs of those better than you?’

Jared catches Jensen’s arm just before he raises it to swing, and Sylvia’s stepping forward to intervene. God, he could snap the man’s neck, but he doesn’t think he’d get the chance before Jensen went after him first.

Greg’s beady eyes look back and forth between Jared and Jensen, lips curled in an ugly smile. “You’re a fucking pervert, playing with children like that. Shame on you, Padalecki, picking up the trash like it’s worth something. What’s he got, anyway, a tight little cunt that you’re too goddamn stupid to leave alone?”

The room goes quiet, even the band. Jared has to strain to keep Jensen from jumping him, the deadly quiet  _ you’re fucking dead  _ from his mouth enough to cue Jared that they probably need to go. 

“Go fuck yourself, Schultz - it’s the only way you’ll be getting it.”

Sylvia follows them out, Jensen cursing and snarling the whole way to the elevator. Jared’s cheeks are flaming with embarrassment, and when he gets another look at Jensen, he’s in tears, he’s so angry.

“Jared-”

“I need to get him calmed down first, Sylvia. You’ll understand if we don’t come back up.” Jared’s got his fingers linked with Jensen’s, holding on tight. “I’m not condoning murder, but if there’s a way to file a harassment charge…”

“I saw the whole thing, don’t worry. He’s out by Monday.”

Jared nods, and Sylvia kisses him on the cheek. She looks at Jensen again, handing him a tissue from her clutch.

“I’m sorry that I misjudged you at first, Jensen. Your guy here hasn’t said a word to me all night about the deal he just closed for us - all he’s talked about is you. Believe it or not, but I think this is the happiest that I’ve ever seen Jared Padalecki.” She dabs at his cheeks, stepping back from the elevator at the moment. “Do you want me to let you know if Greg leaves?”

“Don’t worry about it - I think we’ve had enough for one day.” Jared lets go of Jensen’s hand and instead puts his arm around his waist, kissing the side of his head. “Good night, Sylvia, I’ll call you next week.”

She heads back to the party, and Jared waits for the doors to slide shut before he turns to face Jensen.

“How dare he. How dare he call you  _ stupid,  _ Jared, that…” Jensen inhales, eyes still leaking tears. “And the way he looked at me, like I’m trash, like I’m  _ nothin’,  _ and maybe… fuck, Jared he isn’t right. He’s so goddamn  _ wrong,  _ you’re not…”

“Jensen, hey. Listen. You think I’d let a guy like that rattle me?” Jared rubs his thumbs over Jensen’s cheeks, wiping the tears away from his eyes. “Greg Schultz doesn’t get the time of day from me, and trust me, bimbos is  _ all  _ he’s ever going to get - too dumb to realize he’s an odious little motherfucker. Jensen, you aren’t that, and never have been.”

Jensen doesn’t say anything for a long moment, nothing but the sound of the elevator’s near silent descent filling the space around them. God, he’s never seen Jensen upset like this, ever. For all the drama, the mouthiness, the I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks attitude, it’s the first time he’s ever experienced Jensen being truly  _ upset.  _

He hates that someone’s pushed his boy to that point, more than he can begin to find words for.

“I didn’t go to school because I couldn’t afford it. I… I read, a lot. In the library at the college. One of my friends worked there, and he’d check out books for me. I learned a lot, not just the stuff I read now.” Jensen sniffles, settling himself back against Jared’s body and wrapping his arms around him. “I don’t… it’s for me, you know? That and the readers of my blog, I don’t like people knowing. It’s mine, how… how I got here. People get mad when they find out I don’t have a degree, even the guys in Dallas who… you know what, they don’t matter. That motherfucker at the party doesn’t matter.”

“No, baby, they don’t.” Jared kisses him again, right behind his left ear. “And it’s a smart man who doesn’t let an ass like yours go, not a stupid one.”

“You get a visceral pleasure out of ruining moments, don’t you?”

“No, but you aren’t crying anymore.”

Jensen laughs, raises Jared’s hand to his mouth. “I wouldn’t mind my cunt getting stuffed right now though, she’s been missing out all day.”

“And  _ I  _ cheapen moments, yeah, alright.” Jared turns him around and cups Jensen’s face, seeing gold starlight amongst all that green. “Shame we didn’t grab a bottle of champagne before we ducked out. Good stuff.”

Jensen smiles, chewing his bottom lip. “Who’s to say that I don’t already have a bottle waiting? You don’t think I wouldn’t spend at least  _ some  _ of your money this afternoon, right?”

“Brat,” Jared chides, kissing him anyway. “Let me guess, you forgot to ask for glasses, didn’t you?”

“I’m guessing that Dom Perignon tastes way,  _ way  _ better out of your navel, and I hope to prove that right.”

Getting into their suite takes far longer than it should, Jensen suddenly come over with a very severe case of being handsy, running his fingers down Jared’s front and sides, never quite making it to cupping his bulge but hell, it’s not like Jared would stop him. He gathers Jensen’s body to kiss, kissing him like he’s starving for it, murmuring “I’m gonna fucking wreck you,” and then shoving his tongue right back into Jensen’s mouth, swallowing the happy little moan that Jensen lets out.

Jared makes sure their clothes land where they can find them, down to nothing but their socks by the time they reach the bed - even Jensen’s lacy jock is gone, bowlegs wrapping around Jared’s waist and locking him in. He runs his fingers through Jared’s hair, taking it out of the ponytail he’d set it in, the ends tickling his face when Jared starts to mouth at his throat.

“Didn’t you say something about champagne?” Jared’s at his chest, teasing the pierced nub of Jensen’s left nipple.

Jensen pushes him off, rolling off the bed, switching his hips and fuck, yes, he’s got a little jiggle as he walks, gorgeous and slatternly - and all Jared’s. “You walked right past it, Daddy. Aren’t you glad I’m here to remind you of these things?”

Jared lays back and watches while Jensen uncorks the bottle, his cock plumped and leaking between his legs. He takes his own in hand and tugs, thumb under his foreskin and seeing it come away wet with precome. Jensen gets the bottle open, bringing it back over to bed, white foam surging over his knuckles.

“No remarks about how this feels like a scene from a James Bond film?” Jared sits up and licks the champagne from Jensen’s fingers, accepting a sip when Jensen tilts the bottle towards him.

“Oh, did I forget that?” Jensen kisses him, pushes him flat back down on the bed. “Sorry, I was distracted.” He keeps the bottle steady as he kisses his way down Jared’s body, stopping to lick the head of his cock where Jared’s still holding himself up right. Jensen takes a sip of champagne and then goes down on him, the bubble and Jensen’s sinfully talented tongue making him see stars.  He’s wet enough that Jensen’s probably got a mouthful of salt to go with it, and every little thing he does to him just makes Jared leak even more. Jensen lets him out, the champagne running down his balls, making him squirm. Jensen pours some over his stomach, making Jared keep his stomach tight as he licks it up, tracing his tongue along the curve and cut of his hipbones, swirling in his navel, and then slowly back up to Jared’s mouth, straddling his belly and kissing him with an abandon that gives away  _ very  _ quickly just how needy Jensen is right now.

Like Jared isn’t right there with him.

“Fuck me, Daddy.” Jensen’s rubbing on his cock, hole right against the head and getting precome all over himself. Jared groans, taking the champagne and setting it on the nightstand, both hands going right to Jensen’s ass and spreading him apart. Jensen sucks on his bottom lip, pulling Jared in, gasping when Jared rubs the pad of his finger around the rim of his hole.

“Gonna, baby.” Jared pushes him backwards to that he’s on top, boxing Jensen in with his arms and taking his mouth again. “Gonna give my boy what he needs.” He drags his cock against Jensen’s hole, finding the bottle of lube with his foot when he slides it back under the pillow. Jared retrieves and pours it over his fingers, sliding a finger into Jensen’s hole at the same moment he kisses him. Jensen’s hips arch, moaning, whining, toes curling over Jared’s back.

A blurt of precome leaks all over Jensen’s belly, gathered up and shoved into Jared’s mouth. Jared can never get enough of how sweet his boy tastes, the needy, urgent way he begs for Jared to do it, lap him up and savor him. He runs his tongue over Jensen’s fingers, adding another to his hole, another broken gasp pulled out of Jensen’s mouth.

“Daddy, fuck, you… you found my spot, fuck, right… right there, Daddy,  _ please.”  _ Jensen reaches down between them, fingers wrapped around Jared’s wrist, doing his fucking best to get him deeper. Jared growls, and Jensen lets go,  _ let me take care of you, pretty boy,  _ and Jensen nods, holds onto Jared’s neck.  God, he’s so fucking ready to be filled, incomplete without Jared balls deep inside him.

Jared slides his cock against Jensen’s hip, leaking right along with his boy, a third finger sliding in and Jensen cries out, sobbing with pleasure when Jared crooks his fingers and makes him shiver, crescent-shaped marks dug into his shoulders where Jensen’s hanging on for dear life. “Gotta do it, Jen, gotta make sure you’re ready for me. Don’t want it to hurt for you, just to feel good, okay?” He mouths at Jensen’s jaw, kissing up to his ear. “Love it when your cunt gets loose and wet for me, takes me just so damn  _ perfectly.” _

Another kiss, and he thinks Jensen’s about to fall apart - he ought to know better by now. Jensen opens up, stretched and ready, Jared’s fingers coming out shiny-slick. He coats himself in lube, adds more to the pink gape of Jensen’s ass and he pushes in, slow, firm, eager to be buried in him. Jensen bites into his shoulder, wrapped around him like a vine and it’s almost too much, too damn much sensation and perfection to comprehend. Jared groans, earning scratches down his back when he bottoms out, a loud, long  _ fuck  _ making the room echo. He scrambles to kiss Jensen again, pistoning his hips, just enough to get them used to it. He’s not looking to wait, not when they have all day tomorrow to do it again and again, screw the damn club - Jared’s got everything he wants right here.

It’s not like this wasn’t his plan for Sunday anyway. How many of those has he lost now to fucking Jensen so much that they’ve worn a groove in his mattress back at home? God, he’s lost count, and Jensen doesn’t exactly seem to mind.

“So full, Daddy, so full of your big fucking cock.” Jensen’s drunk with it, pupils dilating with every pump of Jared’s hips. “Fuck, I can come like this, just… just on your cock.”

“Know you can, sweet boy.” Jared picks up the pace, faster, harder, deeper, every motion making Jensen’s voice pitch higher and higher. There’s no sign of the brat here, just pure, unadulterated need, a boy who needs his daddy to fuck him and fill him, leave his cunt happy and sore. Jared gathers him up, kissing with his tongue shoved deep in his mouth, licking, claiming, full wherever he can make him. 

Jensen’s grip tightens on his shoulders, forehead pressed to Jared’s, as close as he can fucking get to him. His eyes open, and Jared sees it, the devotion, the need, everything - Jensen’s surrendered, body and soul, over to him. Doesn’t need a word for it, Jared just knows. Jared nods, kissing his sweet, perfect boy and that’s all it takes, he’s coming, slammed deep into Jensen’s body and he takes him right over the edge, Jensen’s cock pulsing and spurting between them. Jared feels the mess hit his stomach and Jensen’s, warm, thick, copious like it’s been three days since he last came. Jared doesn’t stop until Jensen’s head drops with a loud, happy cry, not at all ready for Jared to pull out of him yet.

Jared nuzzles his throat, making Jensen giggle. “You’re a brat, but you’re  _ my  _ brat.” He has to at least try and frame it somehow, and God, maybe he’s in love with him.

Jensen opens his eyes, fingers gentle in Jared’s hair. “I’d better be, because I’m pretty sure we just made a damn kid. Christ, Jared, your dick gets bigger every time.”

“And you’re not complaining, I see.”

No, he’s  _ definitely  _ in love.

Jensen’s quiet for a moment, scattering kisses all over Jared’s chin and jaw. “I like having you inside me, just like this. Feels… complete.”

“Me too.” He never doesn’t want to be here, happy as he can be. “Glad you’re my boy, Jen.”

Jensen kisses him, softly sweet, absolutely perfect. “I am too, sir.”

“Want some more champagne?” Jared’s already sitting them up, not letting himself slip out of Jensen’s ass. Jensen settles back down, groaning contentedly where he’s seated in Jared’s lap. There’s still come dripping down his stomach, and Jared swipes a finger through it. Jensen sucks eagerly, and just watching his lips close around the knuckle is enough to make Jared start wanting it again.

“I just felt your dick twitch. Inside me.” Jensen grins, reaches behind himself and tugs at Jared’s balls. “These better not be empty yet.”

“They aren’t - and really, you couldn’t have gotten at least  _ one  _ glass?”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you griping earlier. A bottle of that stuff and your musk happen to pair exceptionally well.”

Jared huffs a laugh, and holds the bottom of the bottle while Jensen takes a long sip. “Want some caviar with that too, or have you already had enough salt for the day?”

“Not if you’re offering me more.”

For Jensen, Jared is  _ always  _ going to have more.


End file.
